15 Hours
by syrinxtcj
Summary: Harry Potter thinks he has found his godfather, Sirius, only to realize he has been fooled by Wormtail! At the same time Snape feels the Dark Mark calling him to his Lord. Will his response cost Harry his life?
1. Harry at Hogsmeade

Hey, all! Check out my first story on FF.net!

Okay. I know I promised a Snape-type thang, but I'm telling it from Harry's p.o.v. SO--If you want all Snape, all the time, zip over to chpt. 3. . .The story is a "might be" after OotP, in which Voldemort catches up with Snape, via Potter being...himself. The story rests on the assumption that V knew Snape had spied on him before V's downfall and is looking for revenge, so Snape probably hadn't been going off to rejoin V after Albus asks him to do [what he must ask Snape to do] at the end of GoF. Just wanted to say: I don't think that is REALLY the direction JK is going with her books--esp, since Snape is reporting to the Order; I'm just using it for my fiction! lalalalala :)

If you haven't figured out that the Harry Potter characters are Ms. Rowlings creations, then you are

Definitely

NOT

a Slytherin! In the meantime. . . 15 Hours.

Harry, Ron and Hermione spent all day Saturday wandering around Hogsmeade. As evening fell, they passed by Honeyduke's. Ron stopped. "You know, we've been walking all day. We could do with some butterbeer." His stomach growled loudly. "And I'm pretty hungry. Why don't we just stop and have supper?" He glanced craftily at Hermione. "Wouldn't want the house-elves to have to cook for us tonight too, would we? After all, they just made breakfast for us ten hours ago!"

Hermione shook her bushy hair. "Fine. Besides, I'm rather hungry too." She flounced right past Ron and into Honeydukes. Ron grinned at Harry and shook his head. "She's nuts," he mouthed.

The tavern was brightly lit and teaming with students. Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick gave a friendly wave at them from the bar, while Rosemerta brought butterbeers to their table. She propped a menu in front of them. "Hi, kids. If you want, we have the new glowing spaghetti today. I had it for lunch. It's pretty good."

Harry happily ordered the glow-spaghetti--he wouldn't be getting anything like that on Privet Drive! Ron proclaimed he wanted self-enlarging porkchops, but Hermione decided on plain chocolate ice-cream. "Sometimes Muggle food is just fine," she said. She seemed to be muttering under her breath--something about house-elf slavery at Honeydukes. Not that they'd ever seen a house-elf there.

The food appeared on the table--steaming, glowing, and getting bigger all the time. Ron jumped on his porkchops with zest; the chops were already about half the size of his rather large plate. Hermione pushed her ice-cream away. She was still going on about the elves.

"_Why_ would they help us against You-Know-Who, considering the way they've been treated? Would Honeydukes be willing to treat their elves fairly? Dumbledore seems perfectly willing to give the house-elves wages and leave. What I don't understand why _they_ don't understand it's okay to take it!"

Ron rolled his eyes and jammed another bite into his mouth. His cheeks puffed out as the meat swelled. He kept trying to talk. "They just don't want it. Why _force _them to take it?"

Harry smirked and stabbed at the meatballs with his fork, avoiding the conversation as much as he could. He casually glanced out the window at the wizards in their evening dress. They milled about, hurried on with their own business, talked to friends, or waved without stopping. Walking quickly, walking slowly.

Except one lone person on the far side of the street, who kept to the shadows, wrapping his battered cloak tight.

Harry dropped his fork with a clatter. Ron and Hermione looked at him with surprise.

Harry was staring out the window. He couldn't believe his eyes!

Sirius! It had to be!

That half-starved figure, his walk, the long dark hairs slipping from under the hood as the man paused and turned toward Honeyduke's window...Harry _knew_ he would recognize his godfather forever, wherever. Sirius died last year, but Harry still held in his heart a kernel of hope that his godfather had not left forever when he fell into the veil in the Department of Mysteries.

Harry stared. Was it a ghost? No--the figure was far too substantial. Maybe it wasn't Sirius.

The cloaked figure moved away, and Harry made up his mind. He had to know for certain. He shoved his chair back and bolted out of Honeydukes.

"Hey, Harry! Wher're'ya going!" Ron watched Harry dash out the door. He turned to Hermione. "Where's he going?"

"I don't know." Hermione jumped up and stuck her head out the door. "Harry!" she called, but he didn't look back. He was across the street, then out of sight.

Ron leaned out next to her, looking up and down the street. "Er, back in a minute?"

Hermione shrugged worriedly. "Maybe he saw someone? I think we better follow him." They took out after Harry.

They were back, a few minutes later, without their friend.

"Professor McGonagall!" Hermione shrilled, as she shoved the front door open. "Professor McGonagall! Help! We need help!"

"Miss Granger! What's the matter?" McGonagall hurried toward the huffing, hysterical students. They both began talking and gesturing at once. "Stop! Stop! I can't understand either one of you! Miss Granger, what's going on?"

They both stopped at the same time. By now Flitwick and the other adults were grouped around them; others stared from their tables, and a few students were whispering.

Ron, wide-eyed, nodded at Hermione, who gulped. She stammered out, "P-P-P-rofessor! We-e-e were having s-s-s-upper with Harry, but, but he just--t-t-took off! And we followed him. And we-we-we were following Harry and there was somebody else there, and he put a, a, I don't know! There was something on the wall and Harry reached out and took it, and, and he--he vanished! WE DON'T KNOW WHERE HE WENT!" Ron was chewing his lip, nodding in vigorous agreement.

McGonagall gasped, reaching out a hand to steady herself. "Professor Flitwick! Dumbledore is at the school. Call him, tell him what's happened! Ron and Hermione! Quickly, now! Show me the place where you last saw Harry! We have to find him!"


	2. The Portkey

Whee! Okay on to chpt. 2!

So what do you do when you see all you ever wanted to see? Well, chase after it I suppose. In the meantime, forget your past experience, be all emotional . . .

And Harry wants to be an Auror? YIKES! He better take himself in hand! Mad-Eye would have a field-day with this chapter!

Harry heard Hermione call his name, but he didn't stop to call back. They'd probably follow him anyway. He was nearing the wall that bordered the edge of the wizard village, when he again caught sight of the figure. The man was on the other side of the stile. Perhaps trudging up the path toward the cave where Sirius and Buckbeak had lived? Harry had to know. He called out, "Sirius! Is that you?"

The figure jumped then froze. A moment later he turned. Slowly, warmly he opened his arms to Harry.

Harry could see the smile now, the dark eyes shining. It was Sirius! He ran toward his godfather, sudden tears starting in his eyes. "Sirius! Sirius!"

Sirius abruptly put both hands out before him, shaking his head violently. Harry stopped. "What? What's wrong?" Then he heard: "Harry! Harry! What are you doing? Who is that? Stop! Harry, stop!" Hermione and Ron! What bad timing! But, no, they would be glad to see Sirius, too!

Harry was turning to hail them, but Sirius swept back toward the wall. Within arm's reach, Sirius put his finger to his lips and shook his head. He reached inside his robe, grabbed a flat glass from his pocket and dropped it on the low wall. He turned and bolted up the hill.

Harry stared after him. "Sirius! Come back," Harry whispered. A flash of light caused Harry to look at what Sirius had left. It was a mirror! Identical to the one that Harry had thrown and shattered after his godfather had died. Identical to one that was to have allowed him to speak to Sirius, if only he had used it!

Harry, afraid, excited, reached toward the mirror. His fingers touched its edges. . .

Without warning, Harry felt as if a hook had caught him somewhere behind the navel. He was falling, being transported . . .

Harry felt ground under his feet and stared down at his own startled face, reflected in the shining mirror in his hand. The mirror was a portkey! He hadn't known! Now he had no idea where he was! How could he have been so stupid! But it's from Sirius, Harry thought. Sirius wouldn't. . .No, Sirius probably wouldn't. . . As Harry stood there, berating himself for being a fool, he began to realize he recognized his new surroundings.

Yes, he recognized them, and he began to feel very frightened indeed.

This was none other than the graveyard where Tom Riddle was buried, the place where Wormtail had killed Cedric with the unforgivable curse Avada Kedavra. The place Voldemort had been reborn! Harry began to shake. There was the tombstone to which he had been tied, while Wormtail had taken Harry's blood. In his mind Harry could hear the sizzling of the caldron, the splash as Wormtail had thrown his own severed hand into the fluids. Harry began to panic. The portkey slipped into his pocket. He could hear the high-pitched laugh of Voldemort, the swish of cloaks as the Death Eaters apparated around him. Wormtail sobbing. Loudest of all the slithering of the snake through the grass, as it circled, circled...

The grasses parted and waved strangely, as if something long and undulating moved amongst it. Harry felt himself scream. It was the snake! Here!

There was a sharp crack! and Sirius apparated next to Harry. He laughed nervously and said, "Hello, Harry Potter. Don't worry, this will all soon be over." His voice was different, though, wheezing and wheedling.

Harry knew him; it was Peter Pettigrew. "You're not Sirius!" he gasped.

"No? Perhaps partly? No? Polyjuice doesn't make you into the person it makes you into, does it? But you know who I am, don't you? I'll only be stuck like this for a little while longer. We had some of Sirius' dog hairs, but they seem to have worked well enough to turn me into Sirius' human form, didn't they?"

Harry felt hot tears in his eyes. He felt lost in this place of horrors, fooled by his parents' betrayer, by his desire to see his godfather again. "No! You're not like him. You don't look like him at all!"

Wormtail looked as if he had been slapped. Finally he sneered, "Fooled you well enough, didn't I?" He pointed to the snake as it slithered away. "Nagini has gone to collect the Dark Lord. He will come and he will call his Death Eaters. And we will use you, so the Dark Lord can return to his rightful place."

Harry's stomach dropped. He turned and ran.

Harry pelted across the graveyard, but no footsteps followed. He stopped and ducked behind a grave marker at the edge of the yard, looking back. Pettigrew was no where to be seen. He hadn't apparated, there hadn't been a tell-tale crack! But hewas not where he had been. Harry backed away slowly. Rats began crowding his feet. They crawled on the headstone, shrieking and biting at each other. Harry turned.

Sirius was standing right behind him.

A shining silver hand darted forth from beneath the robes and grabbed Harry around the throat. Harry pounded at the hand, but Peter Pettigrew's newest member was strong and impervious to Harry's blows.

"How do you like my Lord's gift? You haven't had a chance to admire properly it yet, have you? But just knowing I have it makes me all the excited to see my old friend. I'm sure that your presence will bring him here eventually. The entire Order may yet come to save the Great Harry Potter!"

Harry stared. Old friend? Yes! Lupin! The silver hand could harm him as surely as a silver bullet. Harry screwed up his eyes. He was going to hit this man--the likeness of his godfather. He didn't want to, but he would! Harry drew back his fist and punched Pettigrew right on the nose.

Peter dropped Harry instantly and doubled over. Harry turned to run, but Peter wheezed, "Don't you want to stay and see what I can do?"

No! Harry thought, but he found himself mesmerized, not by Wormtail, but by Sirius kneeling on the ground, blood streaming from his nose. The silver hand rose to the bleeding mass. A moment later Sirius grinned up at Harry, and wiped away the blood. He stood. "This hand has many uses. Not the least of which is enabling me to help myself. Something yourfather never did."

He leapt forward. Surprised by Peter's sudden aggressiveness Harry stumbled and was easily captured again. "You wanted to turn me over to the dementors in Azkaban, Harry. That will never happen. I am going to break your neck!" He locked the silver hand to Harry's throat.

"That's enough, Wormtail!" Voldemort stood in the darkness of the graveyard.

Peter kept squeezing, though less so. "WORMTAIL!" Voldemort pointed his wand and Pettigrew was pulled from Harry, who dropped to his knees, gasping and rubbing his throat. "I need him alive for now."

Pettigrew was suddenly acquiescent and bowed his head. "Yes, Lord."

Voldemort approached Wormtail. "Thank you for bringing him to me. It is time. Now, give me your arm, Peter."

Wormtail whimpered, but held out his left arm, and Voldemort pushed back the sleeve. The Dark Mark shown against Wormtail's pale skin.

"I believe all my brothers will be interested to see what I have in mind for you, Mr. Potter," Voldemort said and touched his wand to Wormtail's arm.


	3. The Arrival of Professor Snape

I am NOT going to let this story get out of control. It's time for Harry to take on a little Imperio and let our good Professor have some time in the lime-light.

_SNAPE! IT'S TIME FOR YOUR BIG ENTRANCE!!_ (Make it worth while, dear)

What? You mean Harry's still got some screen time? Snape has been delayed? GROAN! Fine! But get on with it.

_grumble, grumble_ Snape better show up at least half-way through this chapter, or I'm going to have to punish him............

.....Er, sorry! Back to the story!

Harry stood against the gravestone, watching in horror as Death Eaters apparated around him. Ignoring Harry, they crawled to their master, kissed the hem of his robe and backed away, to stand encircling Voldemort, leaving gaps in the circle as they had done before.

"Brothers," Voldemort hissed when the last Death Eater had taken his place, "you are freed from your prison, but the prophesy is shattered." There were low moans from the group; some dropped their shoulders or bowed their heads. "But you have learned to be more careful with my property, have you not? And now it does not matter. The dementors know us and they are in agreement."

There were sounds of assent. "My Lord, my Lord," they muttered.

"I _am_ your Lord. Tonight, I will show you why." Voldemort turned to Harry. "Your life is at an end, Harry Potter. I now know how to take the protection your mother laid on you from you. I know how to make it mine. I will kill you and then it will be a small effort to rid myself of those who oppose me--the Muggle lovers, Dumbledore, and his ilk."

"No! You can't!" Harry shook his head. "Even if you kill me, Dumbledore will still be more powerful than you! I know he is the wizard you fear! And there is an army that will stand in your way! You will fall, whether I live or die!"

Voldemort's lips curled. "Such bravado, Harry Potter. But soon you will find how wrong you are! In this house, I have the magic ready. The cauldron is full; it is time to go."

Harry paniced. He bolted from the circle, but Voldemort had hand on his wand more quickly than Harry could have thought possible. "Imperio!"

A light flashed and struck Harry on the back. Suddenly he was rooted to the spot.

Harry stood frozen, but in his mind, he struggled vainly against the curse. _How was I ever able to throw off Mad-Eye Moody's curse before? Was it so difficult?_ Harry wondered. Yes, and no. No, this _was_ worse. Voldemort held him to the spell, in a way Moody had never done.

Voldemort laughed. "Walk with me, Harry Potter."

Harry struggled harder, but soon found himself placing one foot before the other, following as Voldemort led him to the mansion._ I'm going to walk up to that place and I'm going to die, _Harry thought.

But, why? Why did he have to go to that place? He didn't have to, of course not. It was his choice. Harry felt his feet coming back to his control. He wouldn't walk to his death.

Harry balked, but the Death Eaters near him grabbed Harry and dragged his arms behind his back. Voldemort jumped around, wand at the ready.

At the same time a sharp _crack!_ filled the air.

The entire group stopped dead. No one moved. Not Harry, not the Death Eaters.

Snape had apparated before the line of Death Eaters. He dropped swiftly to his knees without looking at them and touched his forehead to the ground.

"My Lord!" Snape's voice was very tight. "I have come!"

Harry couldn't believe it. Snape! Here! He called Voldemort his lord! Harry suddenly knew he had been right about Snape all along. That conniving deceiver!

Voldemort hissed and leapt forward, but Harry was screaming, "Snape! You traitor! I'm here now and I see you crawling back to your Dark Lord! Dumbledore was wrong to trust you!" He began shouting about the things that Snape had done and not done, and as tears began in his eyes, Harry shouted, "And you killed my godfather! You killed Sirius Black!"

Snape stayed flat to the ground, but his arms curled over his ears. "SHUT UP, POTTER! SHUT UP!"

Voldemort was standing still, listening to Harry's barage. At this his expression slowly changed from one of hate to one of interest. Voldemort approached the prostrate Snape and kicked him in the side. "Get up, Traitor!"

Snape climbed to his feet and stood ignoble before Lord Voldemort. His face was very white, and he stared at his hands. "My lord Voldemort," he rasped.

"Professor Severus Snape," Voldemort paced around him. "You I have long waited for. You have never come to me, never let me see your face since I was reborn. I believed you to have left me. Is it true, and am I right that you were there that night? That you have told my secrets to my enemies? Or is this boy a fool? Letting you touch him, and know him?" Voldemort stopped before Snape. "Snape! Answer! Your life is in your answer. Choose your side!"

Snape's face was a waxy mask. "My Lord. It is you I serve. I have not come to you, for I was a fool. I am prepared for your punishment. It is true I was there that night. But I did not help them! I did not help the Potters as they tried to escape. Now I have touched this boy; and I know him well."

Harry screamed. "_The_ _Potters? You were at my home the night they were killed?_ _You_ helped Wormtail betray my parents to Voldemort!" Harry was fighting with all his might, barely aware of what he was saying. "SNAPE! I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU, SNAPE!"

Snape stared, impassive, at Harry. "My Lord, the boy's mind is weak; he makes himself vulnerable. I will make him crawl for you." He looked up into Voldemort's eyes. "I beg your forgiveness for my weaknesses, for not coming to you when I should. But now, I am yours. I will not leave you again."

The Dark Lord sighed. "Yes, you will be punished! But not tonight. Do as you have said! Make this boy crawl for me!" Snape turned and put his hand inside his robe.

Snape drew out his wand. The other Death Eaters raised theirs too, as if expecting attack, but Snape walked past them, straight to Harry. His unfathomable eyes bored into Harry's mind.

_No!_ Harry thought. _No! Stay out of my mind! I won't let you control me!_

Snape's teeth were barred. "There is no where to run. You cannot run to me, or run to Dumbledore. Not even the grave holds a way out for you." Snape swung his wand back, but suddenly Wormtail leapt at Snape and bore him to the ground. "My Lord," he shouted, "Snape is against you!"

Harry slammed his body against the distracted Death Eaters holding him. Their grip was lost, and he whipped out his wand. Some one kicked his legs out from under him; Harry's knees slammed into the dirt. The forgotten mirror bounded from his pocket and rolled against Snape's thigh as he lay pinned beneath Wormtail.

Snape stared at it. Suddenly, he shouted. "Stupify!" Wormtail was blasted away and Snape whipped the portkey from the ground. A flash of light from his wand and Snape lobbed the mirror into the air. "Harry! Catch it!"

_Stupid!_ Harry thought as he found himself reaching into the air. He grabbed at the flying mirror, unable to stop himself, reaching for it as if to catch the Golden Snitch. His fingers closed around the mirror.

A spell seemed to strike him, and his wand fell from his hand. Harry felt himself being pulled away.


	4. Snape's Choice

Here comes the PG for violence...hey! no running with your wand! It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye.

Harry found himself not ten feet from where he had just been standing. He was still gripping the mirror, but he couldn't move. He couldn't speak or make any sound. His eyes felt dry, but he couldn't blink.

Harry felt he was in worse danger than he been had a moment ago, when he had been able to run. _Snape! You traitor! Why did you do this to me? You've left me wide open to them!_

But no one turned; no one seemed to know Harry was there. Harry thought he knew the spot where he had dropped his wand, but there was nothing to be seen except leaves and dirt. The Death Eaters were staring blankly at the spot where he had been.

There was a thudding impact, and Snape stumbled to his knees: Voldemort had hit him.

Snape scrambled wildly for his wand, but the Dark Lord deftly plucked Snape's wand from the dirt. He grabbed Snape by the left wrist and dragged the struggling Professor to the base of a large tree.

Voldemort hauled Snape to his feet, slamming him hard against the trunk. "WHAT DID YOU DO?" Voldemort hissed.

"Nothing; Potter had a portkey." Snape was shaking so hard Harry could barely tell what he said.

"Liar!" Voldemort snapped. He slapped Severus across the face, then paused. He breathed in deeply. "So," he breathed. "You have chosen your side. And you have put yourself back in my hands." Snape closed his eyes.

Voldemort considered the Professor for a moment, hefting the black wand he had stolen. He grasped it by the handle and with great hate, Voldemort thrust the wand through Snape's palm, driving it into the tree up to its hilt.

Snape screamed. His eyes dimmed, but he didn't faint.

Nothing more happened to him. Voldemort was watching, not moving. Snape raised his shaking right hand to the wand's hilt, and tried without success to pull the wand from both palm and tree.

Voldemort stepped up and threw Snape's hand away from the wand.

"That portkey only works in one direction--to me. Where did you send him?"

Though he trembled, Snape's cold eyes stared unblinkingly over Voldemort's shoulder. "I didn't. It was your portkey. You must know where he went."

Voldemort closed his fist over the wand and leaned closer to Snape.

"Yes. It was my portkey. And I know it wouldn't have sent him anywhere. Don't look away from me." Voldemort gripped Snape's jaw, forcing Snape to look at his distorted face, into his red, red eyes. "Now. Where is the boy?"

"I don't know."

"You do. And you will tell me now, or I will let your brothers have you."

Snape shivered, a look of horror on his sallow face. He gave his head a convulsive shake.

Voldemort gave him a hard smile. "Either you will tell me, or you will tell them. Either way we will have Potter."

Voldemort tightened his grip around Snape's impaled hand, subtly grinding bones against wand. "Don't lie to me, Professor. Where . . .did . . . you. . . send. . . Potter?"

Snape writhed under the delicate torturing.

"I won't. . . tell. . .you," Severus whispered.

"YOU WILL!" Voldemort jumped away and whipped out his own wand. "Crucio!"

Snape screamed; his legs buckled, but he was still pinioned by his wand. He scrambled desperately against the tree, torn by convulsions.

Voldemort stared coldly at Snape as he clawed at the bark. "You have said 'No' to me too many times, Severus Snape. You will never do it again." Yet, after a moment he lifted the curse, allowing Snape to sag limply against the tree, chest heaving in the after-math of agony. "It is too late for you, Snape. You know it. But here, I will have mercy. I want Potter. More than I want you. Tell me where you sent him, and I will allow you to walk away. Perhaps not walk. But, I have the power to stay your brothers' hands from you."

Voldemort opened his arms, and Snape stared about frenziedly as the shadows of the Death Eaters surged toward him.

"No, stay back!" he cried desperately. "My Lord! My Lord! Keep them away!" He began to beg in earnest.

Voldemort closed his arms and the Death Eaters retreated a step. "Simply tell me where you sent Harry Potter."

Snape nodded. "Yes, yes!" he moaned.

_NO!_ Harry's mind screamed, as he stood frozen by the gravestone. _NO! DON'T TELL THEM I'M HERE! PROFESSOR!_

Voldemort tapped his wand and stared deeply into Snape's black eyes. "Legilimens."

Snape froze, his jaw clamped shut. He stared back, without blinking. "Don't hide what you know from me, Severus. _Imperio!_ Now speak. Where is Harry Potter?"

Against his will, Snape's lips began to quiver and his teeth chittered together. "H-he...h..he...I.... I....Ha-Har-Harry...t-tt...h-hher-eee...H-H-Hogs-s-meade."

Voldemort backed away. "To Hogsmeade? That's the best you could do? A reversal of my own spell? Your years away from me have made you soft! My portkey indeed!" He laughed shrilly. "Hogsmeade? I will send Wormtail along to pick him up then." He pointed to Wormtail, who disapparated with a sharp _crack!_

Harry didn't know what he felt; relief, perhaps admiration? He almost laughed. Professor Snape had lied to Voldemort!

Wormtail was back in a matter of moments. "My Lord," he wheedled, "Potter is not there. _Snivellus_ Snape has lied to you."

Voldemort barely registered surprise, but Lucius Malfoy strode forward, blond hair bright in the twilight. He cuffed Snape as hard as he could. Snape groaned and pressed his bruised face to his shoulder.

Voldemort shook his head reprovingly. "Tut. Mister Malfoy. Was that truly necessary?"

Malfoy nodded, his teeth barred.

"Yes, I suppose you are right, Lucius, my friend. Perhaps an interrogation will do tonight." He put his face close to Snape's. "Snape may have lied about our Mr. Potter's whereabouts, but I believe he is very close to...spilling... his guts." Voldemort's lip curled as he stepped away. "I must check my spells. Brothers find out for me what I desire to know." Voldemort called to Nagini and together they withdrew to the mansion on the hill.

The Death Eaters converged on Snape. Tears of fear ran freely down his face-- Snape closed his eyes.


	5. The Dark Mark

Voldemort's got Snape and it's not looking good, but...

Hey, did you ever hear of the Evil Overlord's Code of Genius? Oh, you mean that "Don't ramble on about your plans and be sure to kill your enemies right away" thing? Yes, that's the one. I came across it on the 'net the other day.

So what about it?

I'm just saying Voldemort needs to pay more attention to the Muggle internet, that's all! Then maybe he could figure out what he's been doing wrong! Why he can't seem to win. I think Wormtail's been paying attention.---Maybe V ought to pay more attention to Wormtail, too then!

(Oh, and a little reminder that these are JK Rowling's characters; so don't go thinking their mine. As if I really thought you'd think that anyway. But could I dare hope? hahaha )

Harry felt as if he had a first-row seat in learning how the Longbottoms had been tortured into insanity.

Voldemort's Death Eaters performed whatever curses came to mind on Snape. They manipulated him without mercy, ignoring the cries that punctured the night. He twitched and jerked as they forced him into motion, though his pinned hand kept him from running away. The Cruciatus Curse flew at Snape relentlessly, while the Imperius Curse seemed to be favored as well--one Death Eater ordering Snape to say Harry was in Hogsmeade, another ordering him to say Hogwarts at the same time; while another, the Forbidden Forest. And Snape struggling to say none of them. Far too soon Snape was uttering nonsense.

Voldemort appeared, back among his Death Eaters. "Brothers, Stop!" he ordered. They quickly lifted hexes and curses, and bowed, backing to their familiar circle.

Snape was no longer gasping, nor crying; he only dangled pitiably against the tree, with red welts on his face and neck from stinging hexes.

Voldemort approached the tree and pointed his wand at Snape. "Ennevarte." Snape's vacant eyes drew open and he mindlessly tried to gather his feet under him, though he was shaking hard.

Voldemort paced before him. "So. You thought you would hide from me, living in that rat infested castle, under Dumbledore's protective wing. But you knew his protection wouldn't last. Not with Potter there. You were quite right." Voldemort sketched a brief pattern in the air with his wand and bonds appeared, which quickly bound Snape's right hand to a branch. Snape hardly reacted. He only stared about, making small, useless movements, and twitching his fingers against the bonds.

"You were our brother, Severus. Or at least we thought you were. But you are worse than a traitor. You use those dark eyes to spy on me; that sharp tongue to tell my secrets. Never again!" Voldemort spoke a spell that Harry had never heard before, and a shower of sparks erupted from Voldemort's wand, to slash across Snape's face, though it left no mark. "You are no family of mine! You will never be able to betray me again!"

Voldemort's voice climbed higher, became shriller. He grasped the material of Snape's shirt sleeve and ripped it harshly downward. Snape's chest heaved as his hand took the force of the pull.

The Dark Mark, burning an ugly black, was plain on Snape's angular forearm. Voldemort lightly traced the Mark with a finger. He frowned with anger. "No. You will never betray us again."

He turned his wand in his hand, and transfigured it before Snape's face into a silvery, gleaming knife. He put the knife's tip against Snape's skin, just above the Dark Mark. "Never."

"No..." Snape eyes tried to focus on the knife; he began to plead weakly, "No, don't, no, please don't."

Voldemort's eyes flashed. "It is far too late to change your mind, Severus Snape." With an exhalation Voldemort sank the dagger crosswise into Snape's flesh. Snape screamed.

Harry wanted to vomit, but he couldn't; he couldn't even close his eyes against watching as Voldemort carved the tattoo out of Snape's forearm.

God! Please stop! Please stop!

But it didn't take long. Soon Voldemort dropped the bloody lump of flesh on the ground. Snape fell, his face bluish and clammy with perspiration. He shuddered now as if very cold, while the blood pumped itself out of his arm and splattered on the ground.

Voldemort haughtily stepped back. "Scourgify," he hissed. The blood neatly cleaned itself from Voldemort's wand and cloths. He kicked dirt over the Dark Mark on the ground. "Try to find me now, Professor Traitor," he hissed.

Wormtail appeared at Voldemort's side. He poked the tip of his wand into Snape's wound, gouging at the exposed muscles and tendons. Snape recoiled, but when Pettigrew stepped away Harry saw that the bleeding in Snape's arm had nearly ceased.

"Wormtail, my faithful one," Voldemort reproved, "What are you doing?"

"My Lord!" Wormtail shivered, "You don't know where the Potter boy is yet. Kill Snape now and it may be days or even weeks before we find him! Better...better to keep Snape alive and let me torture his secrets out of him!"

But Voldemort scowled at Wormtail. "What makes you think you can?" He composed his expression and turned to the others. "Come, Brothers. Come see my creations." He turned his back on Wormtail, but Peter grabbed Voldemort's arm. "What about Snape!"

"What about him?" Voldemort replied.

Wormtail stared at the drooping Professor. "He will escape."

Voldemort laughed at once. "Likely. But if he does, where will he go? He won't be able to apparate in this state. No one will come to help him...not even those Muggles in the village. None will come here. I be back and I will kill him at my leisure."

"But my Lord!" Wormtail interrupted.

Voldemort rounded on him angrily, "Wormtail! Do not get above yourself! Leave him! Come up to the house!" Voldemort turned and left without looking back to see if Pettigrew was following him up the hill.

"I will bring Snape." Wormtail gritted. "We can use him; and he must not escape." Peter reached toward Snape, but Malfoy seized Wormtail's silver wrist. "Do not disobey your lord Wormtail, or I will make certain you do not live long enough to learn the consequences of your actions. Do not doubt your Lord." Wormtail glared into Malfoy's pale eyes, but he looked away quickly. He jerked his hand from Malfoy's loosening grip and turned to follow the Death Eaters up to the Riddle mansion. Malfoy's derisive snort laughter followed after.

Harry looked to Snape and wondered if the professor still knew his own name. Snape's head hung limply, his open eyes gazed unfocused on the ground. Had the torture had been too much? Harry found himself hoping with all his might that it had not been.

Lucius, however stood staring malignantly after Wormtail, fingering his lip and considering. With a last sneer at Snape, Malfoy squared his shoulders and marched up the hill.


	6. Frozen Freedom

I hate tacky, senseless, fleur-di-lies. But I'm going to make use of some anyway; I'm uping the rain content, oh and some thunderstorms, simply because they're so much fun!

But some things you just can't change. Like how much Snape hates Harry

/breaks into song and dance/ I'm just wild about Harry! And Harry's wild about me!

Snape's hooded eyes followed the Death Eaters as they trudged up the hill and into the house. As the door snicked shut, Snape began to fumble with the rope binding his right hand. His fingers shifted loops and wrapped the rope in a strange pattern around itself.

Suddenly the rope slithered to the ground.

Harry did a mental double-take. _How did Snape do that?_

Severus didn't even glance at the rope. He was already struggling with freeing his wand and himself from the tree. He tried to twist the wand, but it didn't budge. Snape tried harder, twisting and straining himself, but his grip only slipped off. Very white and breathing shallowly, Snape braced himself against the trunk. Finally he croaked, "Accio wand."

Nothing happened.

Snape caught a breath and whispered again--a shrinking spell on the wand, this time. Nothing. He tried to enlarge it, to break it, finally to shove it completely into the tree, but the wand would not respond. Snape pushed half-heartedly against the trunk, but he was now gasping and sweating. He leaned in and closed his eyes, looking wholly defeated. The wand remained firmly wedged in its place

Harry was frightened. _No! Please don't give up! Keep trying! Please, Professor, we need you! I need you! Keep trying!_

But Professor Snape didn't stir--he only stared blankly at the stones in the graveyard and dropped further against the tree.

Harry suddenly felt himself able to move slightly. Though he wasn't entirely free of the spell, he called quietly. "Snape! Professor!" There was slight movement. He called again a bit louder. "Professor!"

Slowly the focus returned to Snape's eyes. He looked up at the house. Desperation came to his face. Snape seemed to be struggling now without thought; without worry of harming himself. He wedged his fingers under the pinned hand and began frantically to pry. His hand jumped from the end of the hilt with a spray of blood and Snape dropped straight to the ground.  
  
................

Harry hoped Snape would come to soon. It seemed like an eternity had passed since Snape had fallen to the ground. The darkness of night had covered them, though the light of the house filtered down. Harry didn't know what Voldemort was doing in the house, or what his Death Eaters were up to either, but Harry felt sure they wouldn't be gone much longer.

A crack of thunder exploded overhead. Snape cried out and rolled into a ball. A moment later his lifted empty black eyes to the sky. He seemed disoriented--disturbed--as he touched the welts on his face and felt others on his body. His right hand quickly explored the hole in his left; then the place where the Dark Mark had been. A strangled sigh escaped his lips.

In the darkness Snape reached for his torn sleeve and ripped it free. He wound the material around the palm of his hand--there wasn't enough for his arm--and put out his hands. He first touched the tree, then turned away and began to hitch himself across the graveyard. The fingers of his right hand were spread ahead of him feeling, feeling.

Deafening thunder crashed again. Snape stopped crawling. He was shaking and shivering. He turned his head away from Harry, standing nearly frozen just a few meters away.

Harry asked with concern, "Professor? What's wrong? Are you all right?"

Snape's head whipped up. "_Potter! Potter, shut up!_" he hissed. "_Do you want them to hear you?_"

Harry lowered his voice. "But you're hurt! You've got to have help!"

Snape shook his head. "Fool boy! Who'll help us here? Just stay there. I'll do it." He curled his left hand tighter around the bandage, and began to crawl very slowly forward again, fingers extended once more.

Harry felt like he would jump from his skin with impatience. "Get what you're after and let's get out of here!" Suddenly Harry did wonder, "What _are_ you looking for?"

Snape came to the area where Harry had dropped his wand. He felt around in the dark, slowly touching branches and cobbles, roots and rocks. His trembling fingers closed tight around something invisible-- Snape slid his fingers along its long, straight shape. "This."

"What is it?" Harry asked. "Hurry!"

But Snape suddenly looked very dizzy. He lowered his head to his arm. A moment later his eyes were closed.

"No!" _Crap!_ Harry panicked. "Snape! Don't faint! Come on! Wake up! Wake up!"

Professor Snape opened his eyes and pulled his legs under him. He spoke to the object in his hand.

A wonderful feeling spread through Harry's body. He could move, and suddenly visible in Snape's hand was Harry's wand.


	7. Rain

Okay, I think I'm done wool-gathering; my sheep had shrunk in the rain. And you know how that goes--gotta stretch 'em out, re-block them so they're square again. But I think I got some good results.

_MASSIVE THANK YOU's_ to all my reviewers! The fact that you've taken the time to read and review--some of you every chapter!!--really puts the icing on my Cauldron cakes!!

Snape dropped back to the ground as he finished the spell. Harry hurried over and took his wand from Snape's insensate fingers. He shook Snape's shoulder. "Professor. Wake up! I'm free. Come on, wake up! We've gotta go!" Snape didn't answer.

Harry became aware of the shiny weals still crisscrossing Snape's sallow face. He suddenly felt both grateful yet guilty that either of them were there. He touched his wand to one of the welts and mumbled a counter curse.

Snape woke with a start as the counter curse sparked over his skin. He slapped the wand away, breathing hard, but then his eyes narrowed. A moment later he put his hand to the fading lump. "Don't touch me, Potter," he growled. Snape levered himself onto an elbow and forced himself to his feet. His eyes darkened as he swayed, but he didn't look at Harry. "Why are you still here?"

Harry jumped to his feet. "'Still here'?" he blurted indignantly. "Where am I supposed to go?"

"I told you the grave holds a way out."

Harry didn't understand a word of it and said so. "'The grave?' How does a grave hold a way out?" His tone became belligerent. "I don't understand you! Why don't you just say what you mean? The grave! Which one? There's only about five dozen of them."

Snape sneered. "I do say what I mean. _You_ closed your mind to me, Potter, just when I was _explaining _it to you. Now you ask me how to get out of here. Now, when it might have been too late! It's a simple answer, Potter, if you would just use your brain and think about what you know."

Harry wanted to hiss at Snape. _What am I supposed to know?_ There were so many gravestones. None really meant anything to him. Except...Riddle's. Harry didn't want to go anywhere near it, but...A way out? How was a grave a way out?

Snape purred, "Still don't understand? How surprising. Then I will tell you, Mr. Potter: Tom Riddle's grave will take you out. All you have to do is touch you wand to it."

Harry hated Snape's leering tone. He was beginning to regret having used that counter curse. Maybe he could lay a stinging hex on Snape, just because..."Wait! You're saying Riddle's grave is a portkey?"

Snape pursed his lips. "No, Potter. Unlike a portkey, it will only work for one person. It will only work for you."

"Oh." Harry slowly approached the stone. As he put his hand to the marker, the dark clouds broke. Sheets of rain washed hair into his eyes. He turned to Snape, standing in the soaking rain. He didn't move. "Aren't you coming?" Snape moved his hand over his arm.

"When I came I knew there was the possibility I wouldn't be able to leave."

Harry stared. Snape was going to stay here? "What? No. No! You would not have come here if you didn't have a way back! You can apparate out of here. That's how you got here, right?"

Snape scoffed. "I could have, if you would have left when you should have." His voice faded. "How could you think I can apparate now?"

Harry was suddenly frightened. Snape was hurt. Hurt for _Harry's_ sake. Had he been wrong? Wrong about Snape? He didn't want to leave the professor here. There was too much danger. The Death Eaters would come and kill him. Snape would die--like Sirius was dead...Harry's fear shifted to anger. "You didn't come to save me of your own accord, did you? You didn't come to protect me. You wouldn't protect anybody! Who sent you? Dumbledore?"  
  
Color drained from Snape's face. He was shouting now, too. "Not protect you? People were trying to protect you before you were even born! They have died for you! Why don't you don't see what is right in front of your face, Potter? But no! As long as you get your own way, follow your own inclinations, you ignore those that are trying to help you...trying to _teach_ you...You, you...Get out of here, before another life is wasted, Potter!"

"Is too late for that," Kreacher cackled to the falling rain. "MAS-TERRRSSS!" he shrieked.


	8. The Incorrect Spell

Harry jumped around, immediately raising his wand. But Kreacher vanished with a snap; Harry's hex slashed though empty air.

Harry ran over and grabbed Snape's arm. "COME ON! We're going!"

Snape jerked back "My wand!"

"_Who cares?_ Leave it!" "_No!_" "Will you _move_?" Snape was still pulling away from Harry's tight grip. Harry jerked him forward. "What is_ wrong _with you!"

They struggled toward Riddle's grave. Snape shoved Harry's hand from his arm and hissed. "I can't see it anyway, Potter! Go! I'll get out of this."

"No! I'm not leaving you here! Start helping!" Harry was beginning to feel wild--angry and frightened

Lightening lit the sky and the door of the mansion slammed open. Death Eaters streamed out the door, Kreacher laughing and pointing manically. "There they is, Masters!"

_"KILL THEM!"_ Voldemort's high voice raged. Malfoy bolted down the path first, reaching into his robe.

Harry stopped trying to pull Snape and jabbed his wand at the headstone. There was no control of this magic, just a desperate desire to escape.

Malfoy whipped his wand through the air. "Avada Kedavra!"

Green light streaked through the graveyard.

At the same time, Snape staggered. The curse slammed into him and he was thrown against Harry.

The two of them vanished. Lucius Malfoy slowed to a stop. He started shaking hard; he didn't want to turn.

On the hill behind him Voldemort began to scream.

I promise Lucius did NOT kill the Beautiful Potions Master.

_:What?:_

Snape doesn't die here. I'm just telling you, because you're looking a little upset.

_:I'm not upset. I'm just...concerned.:_

Oh. Because I can stop now, if you're worried.

_:No! No. It would be okay... if you wrote a little more.:_

Back from a Princess Bride Moment. Who remembers Moody's comments about Avada Kedavra and bloody noses?

Thunder rumbled in the distance. It wasn't raining here, though there was much mud. Harry could tell. He was laying in it. It plastered his clothes to his back and oozed through his fingers. He was also pinned by a limp weight. Harry realized it was a person--Professor Snape.

He shoved Snape off and skittered back. When Snape didn't move, Harry reached to turn him over. Blood was running from Snape's nose; his eyes stared indifferently at nothing.

Harry jumped up. "Professor. I'll get help!" Harry looked frantically around and realized he again knew the place. But this time he was not afraid. Rather, he was quite relieved.

Harry climbed the gate of the hypogryff corral and ran toward the wooden house. "Hagrid! Hagrid!"

The back door flew open. Hermione jumped from the step, crashing into him. She threw her arms around his neck, jumping up and down. "Harry! Harry!" she cried with relief. "We were so worried! You just disappeared! Oh! You're soaked! Have you been here all this time? It rained so hard! Fudge met us where you'd been! He said an unauthorized portkey had been used! We didn't know where you were! We thought you'd be in trouble with the Ministry! Why did you touch it?" Ron was now pounding Harry on the back. "Been gone a while, mate! Welcome back!"

Harry was trying to put them off. "Later, Ron! Stop! Hermione! Hermione!" Harry kept trying to push her off, but she was clinging tighter to him, almost in tears.

"But Dumbledore came! He said it couldn't have been Sirius Black! And Snape came and he showed his arm to Dumbledore..."

"HERMIONE! Shut up!" Harry grabbed her arms and pushed her aside. Hermione looked stricken. "Harry!" She and Ron exchanged looks, but Harry was running forward. "Hagrid! Hagrid! Snape's hurt!"

Hermione gasped.

Hagrid, who had been beaming at Harry from his open door, started. "Eh? Wha d' ya mean 'Snape's hurt'? Where's 'e at, 'arry?"

Harry grabbed Hagrid's sleeve, pulling him along. "Right here!"

He pulled Hagrid toward the corral in the back yard. Harry ducked between the slats and ran to Snape's side, but Hagrid stopped short as he opened the gate. Ron and Hermione ran into him. He bent down to them. "Ron, Hermione--you two-- you run back up to the castle. Ge' Professor Dumbledore. We'll need 'im down here!"

Hermione protested, "But, Snape! We want to..."

Hagrid forced them around. "No, no, ya don' wan'ta look! Go on! Get going!"

Hermione's eyes opened wide. She grabbed Ron's hand and they bolted toward the Hogwart's entrance. Hagrid turned to his mud-spattered back yard.

Harry was standing over Professor Snape, reaching toward but not touching him. Snape crouched low against the post where Buckbeak had once been tied to be executed. He was almost hidden in the shadows, except the movement of his slightly rocking shoulders gave him away. Hagrid stepped toward him. "Professor Snape?"

Snape knocked back against the fence. He gasped. Then he put his hand on the post. "Professor...Hagrid?"

"Yeah. Don't worry it's me." He squelched through the muck to Snape.

Snape wiped a bit of the blood from his face; his blank eyes moved about. "Where are we?"

"Ma back yard."

A thin line appeared between Snape's eyes, as if that was not the answer he expected. He shook his head, and said to himself, "The spell shouldn't have worked like that."

"B' glad it did! Though I don know which spell yur referin' to--it did'n kill, ya, anyway. Ya made it here! Good enough!"

Again Snape shook his head. "Not for what it was supposed to do." His voice became sharp."Is Potter with you?"

"Yeah. 'e's 'ere, Professor."

Harry jumped around and crouched by Snape. "Professor! I heard Malfoy's curse! Avada Kedavra. How are you still alive?"

Snape's mouth pulled down. "Do you ever listen, Mr. Potter? Distance matters in magic. And concentration. Malfoy was distracted, too far away."

Hagrid started. "Malfoy used 't Killin' Curse on you?"

"It didn't kill me." Snape wiped his nose again with his wrapped hand.

"No, but sur's a whale of a nose bleed 'e managed." Hagrid chuckled, looking extremely relieved, until he saw the bandages. "Wot 'appened to yur 'and, Professor?" Snape just made a small, useless movement. Hagrid searched over his face. "That's a fair amount of hexes ya got on ya, too. Maybe, we should fix 'em up some before we go 'n."

Snape shook his head again. "No, I don't have my wand."

Hagrid raise one brow, then the other. "Don 'ave your wand? Where is i'?" Snape leaned against the pole.

"It's stuck in a tree."

"A tree? Now 'ow'd that 'appen?" Hagrid seemed at a loss, but Snape merely closed his eyes. Finally, Hagrid slapped his thigh and stood up. "Well, if ya don have it, ya don. No sense 't sittin' in the mud. Come on, then. We can use mine."

"No, I can't walk," Snape quietly replied. "I've already tried."

Harry suddenly realized Snape was very pale beneath the mud. Hagrid looked him over. "Right, then." He reached down and slipped his massive arms under Snape, hoisting him into the air. "Get 't door, won'ch ya, 'arry?"


End file.
